"The ring, the ring on your watch chain," murmured Muller.

"It belonged to my dead wife. I have worn it since she left me,"
answered the unhappy man with the same iron calm with which he had,
all these past days, been emphasizing his love for the woman he
had lost. Yet the question touched him unpleasantly and he looked
more sharply at the strange man over in the corner. He saw the
latter's face turn pale and a shiver run through his form. A
feeling of sympathy came over Kniepp and he asked warmly: "Won't
you take a glass of this wine? If you have been out in the cold
it will be good for you." His tone was gentle, almost cordial,
but the man to whom he offered the refreshment turned from him with
a gesture that was almost one of terror.

The Councillor rose suddenly from his chair. "Who are you? What
news is it you bring?" he asked with a voice that began to tremble.

Muller raised his head sharply as if his decision had been made,
and his kind intelligent eyes grew soft as they rested on the pale
face of the stately man before him. "I belong to the Secret Police
and I am compelled to find out the secrets of others - not because
of my profession - no, because my own nature compels me - I must do
it. I have just come from Vienna and I bring the last of the proofs
necessary to turn you over to the courts. And yet you are a
thousand times better than the coward who stole the honour of your
wife and who hid behind the shelter of the law - and therefore,
therefore, therefore - " Muller's voice grew hoarse, then died
away altogether.

Kniepp listened with pallid cheeks but without a quiver. Now he